


How We Happened

by fangirlofeverythingawesome



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Hell, I dont really know, I probably won't ever update this, M/M, My First Fanfic, so I'm sorry, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-20
Updated: 2013-11-20
Packaged: 2018-01-02 03:03:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1051761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirlofeverythingawesome/pseuds/fangirlofeverythingawesome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Castiel fall in love when Castiel rescues him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How We Happened

**Author's Note:**

> not beta-read so please point out any errors

Dean cringed as he carved into the woman’s stomach. He had long since stopped caring who he was torturing. When he slipped up and allowed himself to feel he alternated from enjoying what he was doing to being disgusted with himself but there was usually a steady flow of tears from his eyes.  
He regretted making the deal with that demon to save Sammy and that just made him hate himself more. Sammy used to be the only thing that kept him from giving into Alistair but when he realized that he used it to twist Dean into blaming Sam for where he was. A piercing scream just a tone different than the ones surrounding him pulled him from his thoughts.  
He made the mistake of looking at the face on his table and all the defenses against his emotions came down. He started crying harder but couldn’t stop because if he did he knew that Alistair would throw him back on the table. He couldn’t see through his tears, and his mind was screaming at him to stop but the fear of going through the pain he was inflicting kept his hands moving. An even more pained scream made Dean smile and stop crying. He looked at her face and was proud of the anguish he inflicted.  
Apparently he was done with this one because he could feel the fuzziness enter the edge of his thoughts. He had realized early on that he was broken up into quite a few pieces and that his consciousness only occupied one at a time. As he went down the dark tunnel to a different part of himself he tried to resist so he could rebuild his mental walls, but he was being pulled through unusually fast. As he was yanked into himself he thought he heard a deep, gravelly voice saying “Don’t worry, I’ll be there soon.”  
As he started on the one that was now in front of him he pondered what he heard- or at least thought he had heard. He decided it was just his broken mind trying to comfort him and forgot about it. As he shook off those thoughts he felt a presence behind him. His hands kept moving as he looked back and smiled. Alistair was there, and he hardly ever showed up to watch Dean work now that he was nearly as good as his teacher.  
Dean went back to his task with a renewed energy, trying to impress his mentor. He lived for Alistair’s praise. The screams rising around him were even more agonized, which caused Alistair to smile with pride. Alistair stepped a little closer to further examine Dean’s handy-work. Alistair opened his mouth to commend Dean on his good work but froze as his eyes flashed a red-ish orange and disappeared. Where Alistair had previously been standing stood a figure so beautifully terrifying that Dean stopped his work and tried to run. The figure reached out and forced Dean back into a corner of his own mind.  
Dean slammed on the brakes of the Impala wondering what the Hell had just happened. A glowing silhouette of a man appeared in the passenger seat. He turned to Dean, and with the voice that he had heard earlier said, “Hello, Dean. I am Castiel. I am here to save you. There isn’t much time, so you need to get back before Alistair does. Just don’t worry. It will be over soon.” Dean was dragged back through the dark tunnel to a completely new victim.  
Dean immediately got back to work and soon after an angry Alistair showed up with a legion of demons. “Where did he go!?” demanded Alistair.  
Dean, realizing that whoever just zapped Alistair away intended on helping him, replied with “Who are you talking about, Alistair? The last victim? He should still be at the other table.”  
Alistair rushed up to Dean, lifted him by his throat and hissed, “No, idiot! The angel! Where did the angel go?”  
Held off of the ground by Alistair, Dean clawed at the hands around his neck and decided to continue playing dumb. He choked out an “Angels don’t exist! And if they did, why the Hell would they care about me?”  
Alistair gave Dean a condescending look and finally dropped him to the ground. He sputtered and gasped, trying to regain his breath as Alistair turned to talk to the other demons surrounding him. The majority of them of teleported away, but three of them stayed to watch Dean. As he lay on the ground one of them started walking up to him with a vicious sneer on his face. “Get up and get back to work,” he growled.  
Dean staggered up and grabbed a different knife. He drew a shallow line down the man’s chest, not quite enjoying himself anymore. He started thinking about what had happened, trying to put the pieces together. Alistair had showed up, which never happened anymore, a huge glowing thing had also shown up and dragged Dean to a completely different place, Alistair had shown up with a small army and demanded to know where an angel was, and Dean was now left with a guard. He wondered, if in fact, an angel was trying to rescue him, but dismissed the idea. It was probably just a trick to torture Dean even more.  
His hands kept moving, but he wasn’t really trying. The man kept screaming, though, and he was obviously a fresh soul. Dean stopped. He looked at the face on the table, really looked. He thought that maybe this man had been like Dean, and sold his soul so a loved one could live. He said two words that hadn’t passed his lips in nearly nine years. He stepped back, picked up a different knife and said, “I’m sorry,” then turned to the demons.  
The demons’ heads all snapped up when Dean spoke. Dean looked at them and adjusted his grip on the knife. His eyes were wild and hopeless as he swung for the nearest demon. It easily dodged the attack and wrenched the knife from Dean’s grip. One demon flashed away and in that split second the thing that had called himself Castiel showed up and took care of the other two. Dean stood in front of it and waited. The figure placed his hand on Dean’s forehead and everything went black.  
Dean woke up in one of the numerous motel rooms that he and Sammy had always stayed in and was surrounded by people that he now knew were actually angels, a fact proven by the huge luminescent wings sprouting from a few of their backs. There was a short man with hair longer than Sammy’s who possessed six golden wings. There was also a pretty redhead and a bald black man, neither of whom currently sported wings. There were quite a few others, but one in particular caught his eye. He looked to be an inch or so shorter than Dean and he had piercing blue eyes. His hair was black and matched the color of the large wings sprouting from his back. He was wearing a tattered trenchcoat and spoke with the voice that Dean heard earlier and Dean realized that this was Castiel.  
“I only managed to locate a few pieces before the demons caught on. The rest of the shards are no doubt all heavily guarded now. It will be harder than we expected. Is it still worth it? To save him?”  
“Yes, Castiel, we must save him. Now that the first seal is broken he is the only one who can stop the apocalypse. We will leave you to your work.”  
All of the angels but Castiel disappeared. Dean sat up on the bed about to ask where he was when he was interrupted.  
“You’re inside of your head right now, Dean, and so am I. I am working to rebuild your fractured soul, because you are needed back on Earth. You will sit here and wait while I assess the situation.”  
The angel teleported out and Dean went to investigate the room. He opened the fridge and found a case of beer. He cracked one open and turned on the T.V. Surprisingly there was a marathon of Dr. Sexy, his favorite show. He was quickly drawn into the drama and eventually fell asleep on the couch.  
He dreamed he was a nurse on the show, and was waiting eagerly for his boyfriend, Dr. Sexy, to show up. When he did though, Dean was surprised to see Castiel walking towards him in a labcoat. He was walking purposefully towards Dean and grabbed him by the lapels. His face was an inch from Dean’s when he was awoken by the sound of flapping wings.  
He sat up on the couch expecting an attack but was greeted instead by a bloody, beaten angel carrying a body. Dean stood up but immediately sat back down when he saw that the body was his own. He looked up at the angel with confused eyes. The angel walked towards Dean and placed the lifeless body on top of him. Dean felt the parts of his soul merge together and realized just how unlike himself he had been- and still was- feeling. Dean looked up at the angel to examine his wounds and placed a hand on his chest as the numerous injuries healed before Dean’s eyes. He looked up to Castiel’s face and frowned when he saw the angel’s expression. He looked confused and enthralled as he gazed at Dean.  
The angel leaned closer, as he had done in Dean’s dream, but stopped. He blinked and an icy hardness descended in his eyes. He stood up straight and turned around. Dean collected his thoughts and quickly went to get another beer after he realized what had almost happened. He took a swig a turned around while saying, “Is there any food around here, Pigeon Boy? I’m starving.”  
“Pigeon Boy?” he replied quite sarcastically, “I’m an angel you ass. One who’s been alive since the beginning. And of course there’s food, we’re in your head. You can simply think food into being.”  
Dean scoffed and imagined a nice, greasy burger and a pile of fries on the table and it materialized from thin air. The angel simply chuckled at Dean’s expression of pure joy and went to the mirror. Dean dug in, hungry for the first time since he had died, and heard a new voice ask, “How is your progress, Castiel? The situation is getting worse up here. We need him sooner rather than later.”  
Dean looked up to see Castiel conversing with the golden-winged angel from earlier through the mirror. “I know, Gabriel, but it is harder than it seems. This human’s soul seems to be very highly prized among the demons. They aren’t going to let him go without a fight.”  
“Then fight harder, Castiel! You’re the only angel in the garrison that qualified for this, you need to succeed.” Castiel heaved a sigh as the image of the angel eating a bag of Twizlers in the mirror faded. He turned and joined Dean at the table.  
“So, what’s happening topside, Cas? I’m gonna call ya Cas, ‘K? Castiel is just a mouthful.” Dean asked while stuffing his face full of french-fries.  
Castiel looked startled to hear Dean talk and just stared at him for a few seconds before realizing that he should answer. “The demons are trying to release Lucifer. They need to break 66 seals out of nearly 600, so it’s a difficult battle. The only way that the angels can win is if the one who broke the first seal stops it.”  
“Well, then what do you need me for? Just find the guy who started it.”  
Castiel looked at Dean with pit in his eyes and said, “Dean, that is why we need you. You started it. You broke the first seal. The first seal was broken when a Righteous Man shed another’s blood in Hell. You were that man Dean.”  
Dean opened his mouth to say that the angel must be wrong, that he couldn’t be responsible, when a different angel appeared. “We’ve located another shard Castiel. It’s guarded by five demons. It should be easy for you.”  
“Yes, thank you, Ezekiel. I’ll take care of it. Keep searching for the rest.” The new angel then disappeared. Castiel turned to Dean, said “I’ll be right back,” and teleported to get another shard of Dean’s broken soul.  
Dean sat and stared at what was left of his burger, suddenly not hungry any more after learning that he started the apocalypse. He just sat and stared as a tear slipped down his cheek. “Dammit!” he screamed into the empty space and threw his chair across the room. He smashed the mirror and overturned every piece of furniture before collapsing in a broken heap on the floor.  
He heard flapping wings as Cas appeared in the room but didn’t care enough to look. He heard the footsteps coming closer to him and stepping over things until he could see Castiel’s feet. Cas knelt down and placed another body on top of Dean. As the shards merged Castiel waved his hand and the put the room back to normal. He sat down next to Dean and waited.  
“All I ever did was try. I tried to do what was right. I did whatever I could to please my father and I looked after Sam the best I knew how. I was always strong and I never gave up but-” he broke off with a sob, “-The one time, the only time I was ever weak started the fucking apocalypse.”  
Castiel didn’t quite know how to comfort the man, but picked him up off of the floor. Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel’s neck and started sobbing into his shoulder. Castiel moved towards the bed and attempted to place Dean there. Dean wouldn’t let go of Castiel though, so Castiel sat down with the human and held him until he fell asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> If you read this thank you SO much! I don't quite know what I'm doing yet, but I appreciate you. Please let me know what you think..


End file.
